An Eighteenth Century game of ‘Degrees of Separation’

In this post, we thought we would play a quick game of ‘six degrees of separation’. For anyone who is unaware of the concept, you will no doubt be familiar with the phrase ‘it’s a small world’ and it so it is. It’s been quite surprising that throughout our research, we’ve noticed just how relatively small London was in the 18^th century. Everyone who was anyone knew each other and this has become quite obvious whilst exploring the life of Dido Elizabeth Belle.

So, in today’s game we show the close connection between Prince George (later George IV) and Dido Elizabeth Belle. On the face of it, they would appear to be poles apart, George, the then-future monarch and Dido the daughter of a ‘mulatto slave’. But the distance between them is only a few steps.

by Richard Cosway, watercolour on ivory, circa 1780-1782

We begin the game with Prinny, who, in the early 1780s had a relationship with our lovely courtesan, Grace Dalrymple Elliott, who gave birth to a daughter who, Grace claimed was his. Georgina was the only illegitimate child that Prinny made payments to, so perhaps that was his way of acknowledging that she was his.

Grace Dalrymple Elliott by Thomas Gainsborough.
The Frick, New York.

Now, Grace counted amongst her closest friends, Lady Seymour Worsley, for those who haven’t come across her before, she’s the one who found herself in court in February 1782, for criminal conversation, a euphemism for sex.

Amongst the men with whom Lady Worsley allegedly had an affair, was George, Viscount Deerhurst, later to become the 7^th Earl of Coventry.  Deerhurst was a bit of a ‘player’ and had previously eloped to Gretna Green with Lady Catherine Henley.

George, 6th Earl of Coventry. National Trust.

His father the then, 6^th Earl of Coventry, totally disapproved of his son’s behaviour and banished him from the family home, so George took himself off to stay on the Isle of Wight, at Appuldurcombe, the home of Sir Richard Worsley and his wife, Lady Seymour Worsley – big mistake! He apparently ended up having a relationship with Lady Worsley (he was one of many, she was rumoured to have had well in excess of 20 lovers), but it was her infidelity with George Maurice Bisset that was the final nail in her coffin and she found herself in court, but George, Viscount Deerhurst, also found his name on this list of people with whom she had allegedly had ‘criminal conversation’.

Lord Mansfield was the trial judge in the case of Crim. Con. and he was also the guardian of Dido Elizabeth Belle. The trial took place in February 1782, so no doubt Dido, aged 20 would have been fully aware of it.

Dido Elizabeth Belle. Scone Palace.

To add to the royal connection, Lord Mansfield, counted George III amongst his friends and a regular visitor to Caenwood (Kenwood) House, so it’s perfectly feasible that the royal family would have met or at least seen Dido.  So it really was a small world.

William Murray, 1st Earl of Mansfield by Jean Baptiste van Loo. © National Portrait Gallery, London

Try this game for yourselves and if you can make connections like this from people in the 18^th century we would love to hear from you as there must be plenty more out there.

Viscount Deerhurst’s hunting accident

George Coventry, Viscount Deerhurst and the future 7^th Earl of Coventry, suffered a catastrophic hunting accident in 1780 when still a young man in his early twenties, resulting in the loss of his sight.  He is mentioned frequently in our latest book An Infamous Mistress: The Life, Loves and Family of the celebrated Grace Dalrymple Elliott, and we thought our readers might be interested in this contemporary newspaper account of his tragic accident, given in full, as a little extra information.

Hunting Scene by George Morland
Victoria and Albert Museum

Lord Viscount Deerhurst was alive when the last express arrived from his surgeons, but lay in such a dreadful state, that his dissolution might almost be wished for by his friends. The following is the real state of the fatal accident. – His Lordship was hunting on Monday last, with his Grace the Duke of Beaufort, near Wooton in Oxfordshire; while the hounds were running, he and Sir Clement Cotterell came up to a very aukward [sic] five barr’d gate at the same time. – “Come, Cotterell,” says his Lordship, “don’t stand here, let’s get over!” – Sir Clement replied, “I would not take it for all the money in Europe.” – “No!” replied his Lordship, “then I do for twenty pounds!” – and at this instant he pushed his horse at it, who entangled his feet between the upper bar, on which Lord Deerhurst clapped his spurs to his side, which only served to irritate the horse, without disengaging him, so that they both fell over the gate and the horse upon him, by which Lord D’s right eye was beat into his head, his nose broke and laid flat to his face and his Lordship so much mangled in other respects, that he was taken up the most terrible spectacle that ever was beheld. As soon as he came to his senses, he requested of his friends that they would put him to death; there was but little probability of his surviving it when the last accounts came away. Lord Coventry, his father, went down yesterday to him; they had not seen each other since Lord Deerhurst’s marriage with the younger sister of Earl Northington.

© The Trustees of the British Museum

 

Source:

Morning Herald and Daily Advertiser, 23^rd November 1780.